


sugar pill

by somethingdifferent



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birth Control, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Coercion, Come play, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Hospitals, Let It Ring Through The Lands, Manipulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Coercion, Somnophilia, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, adding these tags upon request, ben has his own agenda and it's very weird, dubious consent on EVERYTHING, everything that happens is v dubious consent but not unwanted, kinda lmao, lowkey established relationship vibes, nonexistent discussion of boundaries, nurse rey, pharmacist ben, rey is into it tho, some noncon elements wrt affirmative consent and somnophilia, somewhat dark, the bag: secured, the tale of two people trapping each other's asses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingdifferent/pseuds/somethingdifferent
Summary: “Sweetheart.” His voice slips deeper on the endearment, something low and dark easing through the way his cock eases through her soft, pliant body. Rey can feel him shuddering behind her, just barely holding himself back, and she doesn’t want to be careful; she just wants him inside her. “Don’t you trust me?” he pants, huge hands gripping her hips to skewer her down the rest of his cock.And Rey does.Or she wants to.And he is, something dumb and foolish inside her reasons, a pharmacist. So he’d know.And he said it was just fine.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 109
Kudos: 953





	sugar pill

**Author's Note:**

> several people to thank i will add hyperlinks later when i'm less lazy thank you FRAK for looking at this and assuring me it wasn't shit and also for the killer title thank you RAE for providing the inspiration in the form of your friend's woeful story and thank you VUAS just for being that bitch

As Rose will tell her in a little under forty-eight hours, voice shrill and eyes full of barely-restrained, furious incredulity, Rey should know better.

Which. Yeah. She probably should.

“For fuck’s sake, Rey, you’re a _nurse_ ,” Rose will hiss. She will sound—and be—rightfully, absolutely livid. “This was on our _board exam_. You did a rotation with an OB!”

Very true. The OB-GYN in question, Maz Kanata, was the one who prescribed her the birth control. All standard: combination pills, estrogen and prostegin. Rey runs like a clock, so she doesn’t feel worried about taking them at the same time every day, and she’s not totally ready to commit to something a little more long-term, like an IUD or an implant. It’s okay to start small, Dr. Kanata told her, smiling warmly. See what works best.

And if she has sex, obviously, she should just be sure to use another form of protection for the first week.

Rey knows all of this.

She _knows_.

She first meets Solo when she’s picking up a script during her pediatric rotation.

The first thing she’s struck by is how huge he is: tall enough the door frame seems at an unusual risk for scraping the top of his head; shoulders such a landscape that the amount of fabric his white lab coat requires to stretch across their breadth seems borderline obscene.

The second thing is his voice. Low and charming. Easy. Sly in that way men sometimes are, like he’s getting away with something with every single word.

He’s not quick about his work—his big hands are slow, thick fingers considered as a metronome while they rifle through to find the right last name. 

They make small talk while he’s hunting for her patient’s medication, Solo calling questions to her over his shoulder as he searches. 

He asks her if she’s new. Says he hasn’t seen her around before. Every word drips from his full lips like honey, slow and so sweet it almost dips into bitterness. He offers to take her to a bar near the hospital, the question light enough that she knows she could easily refuse.

Rey’s already been to the place he’s talking about, plenty of times before; she agrees to go with him anyway.

He double and triple checks to make sure it’s the right dose before handing it over. “Can never be too careful,” he says, dark eyes vivid as a bruise.

She smiles, thanking him, glad he’s being cautious.

When he smiles back, his expression seems almost private. A sort of reserved pleasure in the curve of his mouth. The slant of it like the kind some boys develop as teenagers, sitting in the back of the classroom where the teacher can’t see, etching dicks into the wood of their desks, eyes trailing up girls’ skirts as they bend down to retrieve their pencils. Lazy and assured. 

His fingers brush hers as he passes her the small, white bag, pills inside rattling sharp and spritely as a child’s plaything. A shiver threatens up the length of her spine.

Rey grins at him again over her shoulder before she leaves, heat pooling in the pit of her stomach. She pretends she doesn’t feel his eyes raking over her body as she walks away.

Rey doesn’t even have the excuse of being drunk. Ben—because that’s what he asked her to call him at the bar, his knuckles brushing the inside of her thigh, casual and terribly gentle, eyes molten hot and bright enough to burn—walks her up to her apartment. The door opens at the same time that he dips his head down to kiss her. His tongue is already in her mouth when he walks her inside, legs stumbling backwards and in high heels, like Ginger Rogers. Following a lead.

It happens quick, after that. One minute he’s palming her ass through her dress, grabbing greedy handfuls; the next she’s laid out on her bed, thighs bracketing his over-large ears while he eats her pussy like he’s just broken a diet.

His fingers hook brutally in her cunt, lips suctioned over her clit. The noises he forces from her throat are embarrassing, whimpers and moans that make her sound as desperate as she feels.

He pushes one orgasm out of her, and then, before she can fully come down from the first, another. By the time he flips her over, lifting her hips and lining himself up with her entrance, Rey thinks she’d let him do anything he wants to her.

Almost.

“Wait,” she manages to gasp out, just as the head of his cock dips between her folds, and it’s already the most she’s ever let a man do on the first date, maybe the most she’s ever let a man do without a reasonable, careful conversation about _boundaries_ and _limits_ and _protection_ , all those reasonable, careful words that she can’t quite summon to mind right now, “shouldn’t you use a—”

“It’s fine.” His breathing is labored, voice hoarse and scraping rough. “Got a perfect bill of health. You’re on birth control, right?”

“Yeah, but—” her voice chokes into nothing as he presses forward, eyes rolling back in her head before she manages, “I just started today. I’m not supposed to—” his dick notches another inch inside her wet channel, making her squirm underneath him, hands flailing out; Ben tugs one of her arms behind her back, pinning her, and she _squeaks_ , “—I’m supposed to wait a week before—”

“No, that’s fine, honey,” he’s already halfway inside her, parting tight rings of muscle as easily as water, “it’s fine.”

“But—”

“Sweetheart.” His voice slips deeper on the endearment, something low and dark easing through the way his cock eases through her soft, pliant body. Rey can feel him shuddering behind her, just barely holding himself back, and she doesn’t want to be careful; she just wants him inside her. “Don’t you trust me?” he pants, huge hands gripping her hips to skewer her down the rest of his cock.

And Rey does.

Or she wants to.

And he is, something dumb and foolish inside her reasons, a pharmacist. So he’d know.

And he said it was just _fine_.

His cock, sliding soft between her thighs, is what wakes her in the morning. Ben is at her back, huge body warm and solid like a personal space heater. She’s still tacky-wet and sticky through her folds. He came inside her. She never asked him to pull out.

Rey stiffens as the head of his dick catches on her entrance. His knuckles brush the curve of her ass, and she can imagine him behind her, stiff cock gripped in his bearish paw of a hand, angling himself up and inside.

Rey wriggles, fingers laying flat on her lower abdomen, just barely touching the bone of his wrist. He’s holding her in place, nudging her open with a knee between her thighs. “Is this—”

He hushes her softly, a quiet _shh_ pulling into a, “Quiet now, baby, be a good little fuckdoll,” and then he pushes himself inside with a drawn-out groan.

He fucks her gentle, steady, rocking her back and forth on his cock like she’s really just pumping her legs on a swing set. It feels good, the way he stretches her making her arch her back and whine, but she whimpers, “Ben, are you sure you don’t n—” and he quiets her again, says, “Shh, it’s alright.”

She shifts back onto him, dizzy, thinking of nothing but the cock inside her, his breath hot and damp on the back of her neck. The way he murmurs, “Hold still for me, sweetheart.” She does.

His hands hook around the hinge of her thighs, tugging her ass up, arranging her until her tits are pressed into the satin-soft sheets, her cunt presented to him like a warm meal. Every thrust bumps against this spot inside her body that makes her keen, fingers curling in the softness of her pillow. She’s climaxing before she even knows it’s happening, a long whine slipping out of her throat like he’s reeling it in from the other side. Her muscles flutter, walls clenching and tightening in rhythmic pulses, pulling him over the edge with her.

It isn’t until he’s coming, hard, hot ropes of semen spurting inside her, that Rey really registers what happened. She’s pinned under his weight, butterflied, legs akimbo and spread filthy-wide. His hands are clamped around her wrists like manacles as he pumps deeper and deeper, drawing out her orgasm until it’s almost painful. His cock throbs as he groans his release, the word fuck mangled beyond repair in his throat. It doesn’t even sound like a word anymore. He doesn’t even sound tethered to the earth. 

No one has ever come inside her. He’s the first.

Her eyes open, and before she can say a word he jerks deeper inside, grunting, “F-feels so fucking good, Rey,” and she’s coming again with a muffled sob, face buried in her pillow.

Later, at brunch, Rose puts her face in both hands and groans.

“You fucking _idiot_.”

Rose takes her to the CVS to buy Plan B. She’ll need to take a pregnancy test in two weeks, just to be sure. Rose tells her this in an exaggeratedly even cadence, voice rising and falling like she’s trying to explain pregnancy to a five year old, while she hunts for parking. It snowed last night; the plows have come through already, piling clean white powder in two-foot-high walls along the side of the road, and there are chairs lined up in almost every available spot. They’ve already been looking for fifteen minutes.

“I’m fine,” Rey finally snaps, annoyed and frazzled and still half-dazed from a sex hangover. Her thighs keep trembling, like his touch imprinted on her muscles. Like her body is trying to adjust to fit him. Not that she’ll see him again. She knows better. “I know how to take a god damn pill.”

“Well, clearly you don’t,” Rose shoots back, and then, almost immediately, “Sorry, that was mean. I’m just—a little worried about you. That’s all.”

Rey exhales. She shifts, and thinks for a moment she can still feel Ben’s come inside her. But that wouldn’t be it. It’s been hours. “You don’t need to worry,” she says. “I’ve got everything under control.”

Rose’s fingers twitch on the steering wheel, but that’s the only thing that says she isn’t buying it.

_I had fun last night._

_And this morning._

_I want to see you again._

Her thumb strokes the bow of her lip. Rey considers, for a moment, making a reference to the very unsafe sex they just had. She needs to take another STI test now. She’ll need to take a pregnancy test soon. Ben didn’t even ask if he could—he didn’t even get her permission to—

 _You can’t expect a man to have your best interests in mind,_ Rose said. _Some of them will say anything to get away with not wearing a condom._

Rey bites her lip and types back: _me too._

She’s barely hit send before his reply buzzes across the screen.

_Dinner Saturday?_

By Saturday, she’s been on birth control for a week, and her STI tests have already come back perfectly normal. No surprise herpes, no chlamydia. Rey has the HPV shot already. So it’s fine, really.

Really.

She tells herself this all the way through dinner. During the appetizer, as Ben’s eyes track down the column of her throat, appraising the expanse of skin from the soft slope of her jaw, down to the neckline of her dress, dipping low enough to expose the barest curve of her breasts; during the main course, when he replies to her questions in a low, rumbling voice, every so often offering up queries of his own, laughing at her little jokes with bright eyes and a wry tilt of his mouth; during dessert, when his amber eyes darken into black pools as she takes her spoon, laden with rich, over sweet ice-cream, and lays it flat on her tongue, pulling it out between her teeth. At the end, when the check comes, Ben tucks his card in the leather folder holding the bill and hands it back to the waiter without even glancing at the price.

It’s a nice date. 

So when Ben asks if he can take her home—he doesn’t want her to take the CTA, not at this time of night, he won’t hear of it—Rey smiles and says yes.

And he walks her to her door again.

His head is between her legs, tongue winding a meandering path across the inside of her thighs, when Rey manages to bring it up. “About the other night.”

He doesn’t even look up. He hums into her pussy, lips latching around her clit. The corners of his mouth twitch up when she gasps at the sensation.

She pushes at his shoulder to get his attention, bringing her heel down across his back when it still doesn’t stop the flickering of his tongue.

“Ben,” she says, breathless, “the other night—”

He groans, kneeling up and arching over her, a hand sliding under her hips to position her body to his liking. His cock brushes her clit and dips momentarily between her folds. “Mm,” his jaw is slightly slack, eyes glazed over, “did you not like the other night?”

He nudges closer, and her eager cunt invites him in, swallowing up his cock head. “No,” she stammers, swallowing hard, and she can’t think straight, she can’t, “no, I did, I—I just wanted to tell you—”

“Yes, sweetheart?” he sighs, distracted.

“I took care of it.”

He stills. The only light in the room comes from her open window, the moon shining off the snow. It casts him in a lovely sort of half-darkness, his pale skin almost alabaster under the black curtain of his hair. His voice is solid, hiding something hard underneath. “Took care of what?”

“Well, you—you probably didn’t know,” she’s babbling, spine arching as he takes another inch, “I wasn’t s-supposed to—it doesn’t work right away with the combination pill—” his arm holding her back up stiffens, and his hand must be biting bruises into her waist, “but it’s been a week and, and my tests all came back good so you don’t need to use a—”

All the air seems to leave her as he suddenly, without warning, plunges the rest of the way inside. Rey gapes, fingers clawing at nothing at all as he spears her on his cock. Bare again, like before. Raw.

He lets out a low chuckle, something heavy and dark twisting through it. It makes her shiver, some long-dormant instinct stirring at the sound.

“That’s great, honey.” He seems privately amused, in on some joke she has no part of. He pulls out until only the very tip of his cock is inside, before slamming back hard enough to push her up the bed. Rey squeals, grabbing onto his shoulders like she’s trying to keep her head above water. He mutters something else too, something that sounds like, “wasn’t planning on it,” but then he’s fucking into her hard enough to rattle her bed frame against the wall, and Rey forgets to ask him about it.

Her alarm goes off at forty-thirty a.m., a discordant buzz on her nightstand. It’s a Sunday, and she’s not working her next shift until Tuesday, but Rey rubs her eyes and drags herself into a sitting position anyway.

Behind her, Ben stirs, grumbling.

“The fuck are you awake for?” he groans.

Rey yawns, eyes blinking blearily open. “Need to take my pill. They’re—”

She hesitates abruptly, wary of telling him where they are—in the left-side drawer of her bathroom sink. She’s not quite sure why.

Then, his arms are wrapping around her middle, tugging her back into the bed. And Rey—goes. Lets him nuzzle his nose into the nape of her neck. Her eyes drift shut, sinking into the warmth of his body.

“‘S fine if you take it a little late,” he mumbles, barely coherent. “Don’t worry about it, baby.”

Rey doesn’t remember to take her pill until two, well after Ben has already left, after fucking her a second time. Her body is sore, pleasantly achey between her legs. Still a little wet from the second time he came inside her. She washes the pill down with a red Powerade from her fridge, swishing it around her cheeks before swallowing.

She lounges on her couch while _Gilmore Girls_ plays on her TV. She texts a reply to Rose’s curious and obviously nervous message over how Rey’s second (ill-advised, in Rose’s opinion) date went: _he was a perfect gentleman_. She reads a short story in _The New Yorker_ on her phone that Finn recommended over a year ago, in between clicking from Facebook to Instagram to Twitter and back again.

According to Google, she finds out, the salary of a hospital pharmacist is estimated to be somewhere between 100 and 150 thousand dollars a year.

Rey hums, shimmying further into the patchwork quilt she spent the better part of last year working on.

Good to know.

“Are you still seeing that guy?” Rose asks over lunch two weeks later.

Rey shakes her head no, even while she feels his come pooling in the gusset of her panties under her scrubs.

The pregnancy test comes out negative. Which. Thank god. Of course. 

Of course.

Rey sees a condom in his wallet, once, when he’s paying for dinner the way he always does. She wonders, idly, when he put it there; why he didn’t use it on their first date. Or on any of their subsequent ones.

She doesn’t ask if he’s fucking other people, or if he’d be okay with her doing so.

Rey doesn’t really think she needs to. 

Rey finishes the first pill pack, and Dr. Kanata asks to see her before she’ll refill the prescription. She wants to know if Rey thinks it’s working for her, she says.

“And if you’d like,” Maz says, smiling gently, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “we can put you on something more long-term whenever you feel you’re ready.”

Rey nods, “Absolutely.” Her fingers crumple the crisp white paper covering the medical chair. “I’ll let you know.”

She picks up the prescription in the hospital’s pharmacy later that afternoon. She’s still wearing her scrubs—formerly seafoam green and now closer to a sad, dull forest color—and her feet are killing her even protected through layers of wool socks and orthopedic clogs. It’s been a long day: another in an unending series of long days.

When Ben comes by, Rey is slumped over the counter, shoulders hunched and eyes drowsy. She straightens at the sight of his belt buckle, eyes trailing up until she meets his wry gaze.

“Rough shift?”

She can’t help the relieved smile that stretches across her face. “It’s over now, at least.”

“So are you here to pick something up, or just looking for the pleasure of my company?”

“Little bit of both,” she laughs. She wonders, a bit, if it’s an invasion of privacy for her...the guy she’s seeing to be able to see exactly what prescriptions she’s getting for herself. But they’re already sleeping together, she supposes. So it can’t be a big deal. “Just here for my birth control. Maz said it’d be ready by now.” 

His easy grin strains. Just barely. “You’re still taking that?”

“Yeah.” Rey shifts on her feet. God, her calves are killing her. “Why do you ask?”

Ben shrugs. He taps the top of the counter twice, a punctuation. “Oh, no reason,” he says, lips quirking. “Just lots of side effects with that brand.”

Rey laughs again, shoulders rising and falling. “Maybe,” she says. “Do you think I should switch to something else? Dr. Kanata was gonna recommend an IU—”

“ _No_.” The emphatic way he says the word startles her into silence for a moment. A muscle jumps in his jaw. She blinks, and his eyes, the line of his mouth, soften. “No,” he says again, quieter than before, “this brand works just fine.”

He smiles and walks back into the pharmacy to find her prescription. Rey stands there, waiting, thoughts rolling through her mind too quickly for her to hold onto, restless as a shifting tide. When Ben returns, his hands brushing against her wrist as the bag passes between them, he offers to drive her back to his place to relax and de-stress together. He’s had a long day, too, he says.

Something in her heart flutters, her stomach dipping. It strikes her, at once, how handsome he is. How tall and broad-shouldered. Smart. Capable. Good bone structure.

She says yes.

Ben owns a house on Sheridan Road. She assumed, for some reason, that he lived in an apartment like the one she rents for 900 a month in Rogers Park. 

It’s a monstrosity of a thing: massive and sprawling, vine-covered brick and white shutters on wavy-glassed windows. Old and historical. One of those estates people pass down from generation to generation; it gives off the impression that it could one day be turned into a museum, filled with the sounds of tourists groaning up and down its winding wooden stairs. At the same time, it’s easy to envision it replete with neatly-pressed, rosy-cheeked children playing raucous games of tag on the front lawn. A home.

She and Rose have passed by houses like this before: elegant and huge and built to be admired. If Rose were here, she’d probably say it costs _a cool mil._

Ben doesn’t even acknowledge it. He guides her to the door with a hand on the small of her back, as if she wouldn’t be able to navigate her way to the entrance without his touch, and he unlocks it with the same lazy and automatic manner she has clocking in and out of work.

As if he doesn’t even notice how beautiful all of it is.

Inside, it’s even better. Or maybe it’s worse in some sense—a bitter stab of envy tears through her chest at the sight of the dark hardwood floors, shelves filled with books, a kitchen stocked with gleaming appliances from Williams Sonoma. Not a speck of dust. She’s already dreading returning to her cramped studio, folding herself into her bed and waking up before the sunrise. It’s always harder in the winter.

Beside her, Ben shakes his keys in his palm. He eyes her askance, seeming almost…nervous. “So? What do you think?”

Rey blinks. Offers a smile. “It’s lovely,” she says honestly.

His grin is so wide and beaming, it’s almost blinding. “Good,” he says softly, “perfect.”

He fucks her on his couch halfway through _Metropolitan_. She’s underneath him, unattractive uniform top pushed up over her tits, bare below her waist. His back hunches uncomfortably so he can suck her nipples into his mouth, laving them with his tongue until they’re hard and red from attention. He rocks himself through her channel, panting a little every time it twitches inside her.

She’s already come twice: once with his fingers buried in her, once when he finally speared her over his cock, with her own fingers rubbing frantically between her legs.

Rey’s slept with enough people to know it’s not that common to find someone who wants to make you come almost as much as they want to finish themselves. Not Ben. So generous with his mouth and his hands and his dick.

He pumps in and out of her body faster as he nears his release, fingers clutched almost desperately around her waist. 

When he first says it, words muffled by her hair, Rey doesn’t hear him for a moment. Not until he says it again.

“Beg me.”

Her eyebrows furrow together, hands clasping for his shoulders. She’s not sure she heard him right. “Ben?”

He groans, hips stuttering a little. The movement makes her gasp, pussy tightening around his cock. She might come again. He might make her come again.

His arm reaches over her hand, white-knuckling the edge of the couch for better leverage. “Beg me to come inside you,” he mutters, low and dirty, in her ear. “ _Fuck_ , gonna fill you the fuck _up_ —”

“Come—come inside me, p-please.” She’s whispering, voice barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the sofa shaking. His pace picks up, cock slamming inside her punishingly hard. “Please come inside me, Ben, please, please, _please_ —”

Then, with a drawn-out curse and long, punishing thrusts, he does, his dick pulsating in her channel so strongly it pulls her over the edge with him. He empties himself, warm and thick, inside her, and he sighs into her mouth as he comes apart.

Her phone alarm wakes them from where they fell asleep on the couch. Ben is curled around her back, both of them still naked, his cock soft where he left it pressed against her pussy. The TV is dark, the house around them quiet. No ambient noise from the street, no eternally clanking radiator. Just the sharp sound of her pre-dawn alarm reminding her to take her pill.

Rey grunts, rolling herself away to turn off the phone and hunt for her pill packet where it’s burrowed, she’s sure, at the very bottom of her purse.

Before she can so much as make contact with the bag, Ben tugs her back against his chest, back into the warmth of his body.

“No,” Rey mumbles, still bleary and half-asleep, “no, I need to take it now, or I’ll forget, and—”

“So skip it today,” he murmurs. His arms tighten around her. His thumb traces a gentle curve just below her belly button.

And Rey knows better. And she knows she knows better.

But, still: she listens to Ben when he pulls her close. Says quietly, “Don’t worry about it, baby. Just go back to sleep.”

When Rey wakes again in the morning, it’s almost noon, and he is already inside of her.

“Ben?” she mumbles, disoriented. She feels sticky and hot, still messy between her legs from the night before.

Behind her, Ben shudders. “—fucking good, so— _fuck_ —” His fingers tighten on her hip, knuckles white. “Gonna fill you up,” he promises, voice choked and desperate. Rey shivers, whining a little, as his cock throbs inside her, thrusts jerking erratic. 

She burrows deeper into the cashmere throw he tucked over her and turns her face into his neck as he languidly strokes, tugging little moans from her throat.

According to Zillow, his house is worth around one point five million.

Another long day. More before that. More to come after, she knows.

Rey is working in the oncology unit for the foreseeable future. Some people are okay, but others are really, really sick. She can handle it, her supervisor tells her. She doesn’t let a tender heart keep her from doing her job. She flits back and forth between her patients and the pharmacy to pick up their medication. Sometimes one of the assistants is there, standing with slouched shoulders as they watch machines sort brightly colored pills into neat piles. Sometimes it’s one of the other pharmacists, equally tall and equally white men who click through pop-ups on the computer with the bored air of the retail worker Rey used to be. Sometimes it’s Ben, and he’s always pleased to see her.

It’s like relief, the way she feels when he looks at her.

Ben doesn’t like her taking the train home; when their schedules line up right, he insists on driving her back in his Audi, with its heated seats and buttery leather chairs and fucking WiFi. Sometimes he waits around an hour or so for her shift to end, and sometimes he asks her to hang around the pharmacy with him.

It’s almost the end of February, but winter is far from over.

Rey is scrolling idly through her phone, grimacing at next week’s schedule and rubbing a spot on her temple with the heel of her palm, and she doesn’t even notice Ben standing, car keys dangling from his index finger, until he clears his throat.

“Headache?” he offers.

Rey nods, frowning. “Just need to take an Ibuprofen.”

Ben nods in return, jerking his head to the door so they can walk out together. Rey’s tote bag bumps against her side as she walks, struggling to keep up with his long-legged stride. He always says he’ll take her home, but more often than not he ends up taking her to his place. She usually spends the night.

Actually, she can’t remember the last time she slept at her apartment more than two days in a row.

She considers this, biting her lip, and it takes her a moment to realize Ben is talking to her again.

“—not an uncommon side effect, but if you’ve been taking it for two months already maybe we— _you_ , I mean, should consider another form of protection—”

“Sorry, what?”

Ben pauses, blinking. “What?”

Rey stares back at him. The tips of his ears are peeking out from beneath the thick, black tangle of his hair. Big ears. She wonders if that’s genetic. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening. What’s a side effect of what?”

“Your headaches,” he explains. “They can be a side effect of your birth control. Usually they go away after you’ve been taking it for a while, but if they haven’t maybe it’s time to try something else.”

They’re in the parking lot now. Rey doesn’t even remember how they got there, her body functioning on autopilot. She shivers, her thin coat doing little to protect her from the biting wind. She needs a new one. She tucks her hands into her elbows, but Ben is already draping his overcoat across her shoulders, the thick down warming her instantly. She mutters a thanks, and he smiles. 

“Maybe,” she allows. “It could just be dehydration. Or I’m overtired.”

His mouth slants. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

Rey quiets as they approach his car, mulling the thought over in her mind. If Rose were here, Rey knows exactly what she’d say: _don’t be stupid, stupid._

But Rose isn’t here.

“Do you think I should switch to something else?” Rey asks.

Almost immediately, Ben’s whole demeanor shifts—lips twitching, eyes lighting up. He tries to contain it the way a child would, trying to keep himself from being visibly excited.

It makes her stomach flip.

“I mean, it’s not a big deal if you do,” he says hastily, rounding the car to open the passenger door for her. “We can use another form of protection while you decide. But it’s up to you, of course.” Ben sidles closer, head dipping to nuzzle under her jaw. “I just want my girlfriend to feel her very best,” he murmurs.

Rey can’t help her grin at the term. She nods, banishing Rose’s voice of reason from her mind, that little nag telling her this is a bad, bad idea.

“Okay,” she says, a thrill running through her as Ben’s smiles, sharp and satisfied as a well-fed wolf.

Rey doesn’t know what, exactly, she expected him to do when she stopped taking her birth control. Use a condom, probably, like every other man she’s slept with.

Maybe that was naive.

When he fucks her the next night, burying himself to the hilt inside her while her thighs strain around his hips, knees aching as she lifts herself up and down again, Ben doesn’t so much as make a cursory attempt to use protection. He eases her onto his cock with a breathless, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll pull out.”

To his credit, he does.

Barely.

“So you’re still seeing that douchebag pharmacist,” Rose says flatly at lunch, mouth full around her McDonald’s fries. It’s hardly even an accusation—more like a plain statement of fact.

Rey hedges, shrugging. “I mean, yeah? Kind of.”

Rose shakes her head, her ID badge swaying back and forth where it’s clipped to her collar. “Yeah, well—when he finally knocks you up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Ben’s family is from a suburb outside of Boston. His mom and dad still live in the house out there, the one he grew up in. It’s a family home, he says. Where his grandmother was raised. He shows her the pictures.

It’s even nicer than his house.

Rey tells him as much, trying her best to keep her voice light, casual. Free from that painful twinge of jealousy choking her heart, imagining him growing up in the lap of luxury, private schools and Ivy League education, beautiful, sturdy boots to keep the snow from freezing his toes in the winter and cashmere scarves to tuck inside the collar of his woolen peacoat. 

Rey had to grow up here.

Ben grins and loops his arm around her, holding her close.

“I’ll take you there,” he says in her ear, “whenever you want.”

His come is pooling on her lower abdomen, dripping down her belly. Ben only just pulled out in time, only just managed to come on her rather than inside her. He’s been pushing it. Rey knows he’s been pushing it.

Above her, he shakes, groaning, and draws his fingers through the mess he made. The inside of her thighs are sloppy-wet and sticky, the muscles in her legs jumping and jumping and jumping.

“God,” he says, voice slipping into something like a growl, “you look so fucking _good_ covered in my come like that.”

His fingers trail down her belly, dragging his semen with them.

Rey stiffens, eyes widening. “Ben—”

“Shh. It’s okay, baby.” His hands slips to her mound, slick fingers parting her folds and tracing a torturously light circle around her clit. Despite herself, Rey whimpers, body arching into his touch. “Just a little bit, okay?” His eyes darken, full lips parting. “Only a little bit.”

His touch is slow, careful and considered. He rubs his come around her clit, smearing it across her pussy. Getting her off.

“Just,” she reaches back for the pillow behind her head, helpless, burning and out of her mind, “just—”

Her voice hitches into a gasp when he slides his middle finger inside her, pumping his load in her still wet cunt.

“Ben,” she whines, breathless, incapable of saying anything else, “Ben—”

“That’s right, baby,” he grunts, adjusting his position over her, the muscles in his shoulders rolling as he shoves his finger in and out, fucking her with his come, “take my come for me, be a good girl and take it—”

Rey jerks, the heel of her palm pressing against his chest, mouth open, shocked and horribly turned on at the way he slips more of his come inside her, doing it with no barrier, no pill, nothing to stop it from actually _taking_ and—

“Come on, honey,” he coos, “keep all my come in this tight little cunt, where it belongs.”

“Fuck,” she hisses, “ _fuck,_ ” and she orgasms on his hand, her walls tightening around his finger, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, trying to hold all of it in.

Her lease is up in April. Her landlord sends her no fewer than five emails to see if she’s going to renew it.

Rey bites her nails to the quick and deletes every message.

The first two drawers in his dresser are hers. He emptied them out quietly, without fanfare, folding the spare clothes she’s left strewn around his apartment and tucking them away. Most of her toiletries have migrated over, mingling with his on the bathroom sink; a pink razor hangs on a hook in his shower; his fridge is stocked with energy drinks and his pantry with name-brand toaster strudel. One morning, when her alarm goes off at six a.m. to wake her for her shift, she kisses his nose goodbye and turns around just as she hears him grumble, “—need to get you a fucking car.”

It’s Sunday morning. The temperature has dipped outside. Another cold snap, the rain freezing before it hits the ground. If she were in her own apartment, her feet would be numb in this kind of weather, even through her socks.

Not here. 

Here, she’s warm. Safe. Cocooned in a mass of blankets, drowsy in the dark, Ben cloaked around her back. Nestled and nested. When he wakes up, grousing and muttering the way he always does, he presses her closer, hands on her stomach hot through the thin fabric of the t-shirt she wore to bed.

She sighs contentedly as he settles her into him, grinding her against his hard-on.

“Morning,” she mumbles, grinning a little at the way he groans at the sound of her voice.

“Morning,” he grunts, “need to fuck you now.”

Rey hums, legs spreading automatically as he rolls her onto her back, welcoming him to settle between them.

Ben probes her with a gentle finger, hissing a curse at the liquid sound she makes at the attention.

“Always so ready for me,” he marvels, lining up with her entrance, “such a good, sweet little fucktoy.”

Her chin dips to her shoulder, hands trailing up and down his abs as he seats himself inside her with a muffled growl.

Her back arches, breath leaving her in long puffs as he starts up a deep, lazy rhythm. He kisses her, every inch of skin he can reach, with plush, soft lips; his hands brace around her wrists, holding her down and open for him. 

“So tight,” he mumbles, sounding almost drunk on it, “so wet, such a good little hole for me.”

Her chest heaves as his pace picks up, tits bared when his hand slips up her body to push up her shirt. He likes finishing on them, sometimes, likes seeing her pink nipples shiny and wet with all his fluids. She comes quickly, a loud, shuddering moan leaving her parted lips, limbs trembling as he pounds into her faster and faster, hitting that same spot inside her that makes her keen into the air. 

His grip tightens on her forearms, pressing in deep. Pinning her. He’s well and truly fucking her into the mattress now, every thrust jarring her body further up the bed, making the headboard clatter against the wall.

Her body quivers, everything inside her tightening at once. She’s going to come again, she’s going to come, she just needs—

“Ben,” she cries out, “Ben, please, I want—”

“ _Beg me_.” His eyes lock onto hers, voice a feral snarl as he shoves his cock inside her over and over. “Beg me to come inside you.”

She’s already nodding, all but sobbing as he fucks into her, “Come inside me, please, please, come inside me—”

“ _Fuck_ yes.” She’s shaking into pieces underneath him, perilously close to the edge, just a little bit more. “I’m going to come inside this cute little pussy. Not one thing in the fucking way. Not anymore.”

Her nails scrabble at his shoulders. “ _Yes._ ”

“Fill you all the way up, to the fucking brim, baby. You’re not gonna let one little drop out.” She shakes her head, frantic to show him how well she’s listening, how good she can be. She wants, she wants, she—

“No,” his hips slam into hers, his cock hammering inside, and this is happening, all this time and she knows this is everything he’s been waiting for, he’s not going to pull out this time, and, what’s worse, she doesn’t even want him to, she wants every single thing he wants to give her— “ _Good girl,_ ” his voice dips low, deep and dark, “Gonna give me a baby, aren’t you? You’re gonna be a good little mama and make me a baby with all this come.”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever, fuck you all the time, _fuck_ —” his pace falters, eyes pitch-black and _starving_. “Breed my sweet little wife until it fucking takes and you give me what I fucking want—”

She nods, teary eyes closing as she wails, “Yes, come in me, _please_ —”

“Good girl,” he growls, “fucking _take_ it.”

Her orgasm is a violent thing, wracking through her body until she’s sobbing from it. It seems to go on forever, drawn out as he buries his cock deep and hard. She goes limp when he comes inside her body, feeling him pulse his seed in her cunt, every barrier gone. Nothing at all between them.

When the weather warms, Rey takes another test.

She sits on the edge of the bathtub she hasn’t cleaned in over a month, foot bouncing on its heel. The test is perched on the edge of her bathroom sink, where it has sat for the past five minutes, undisturbed.

She needs to clean this bathroom; the landlord reminded her of that. That’ll be the first thing she does after she checks, she decides firmly. She’s going to stand up right now and do that. Her index finger crosses over her middle. Any minute now, she’ll get up and look. 

Her heartbeat thuds in her throat.

Any minute now.

**Author's Note:**

> going 2 church in the morning pray 4 me


End file.
